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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071149">Not with a bang ...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantika/pseuds/Romantika'>Romantika</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Downton Abbey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aristocratic abuse, Class Issues, M/M, Multi, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), past angst, present happiness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:33:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,038</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantika/pseuds/Romantika</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected turn of events brings Thomas back in contact with someone who was once important in his life, but what might that mean for his present, and his future?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent, Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis, Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis/Jimmy Kent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A reminder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>“I hope you find some happiness … “</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Oh, I’ll be dandy … “</em>
</p><p> </p><p>It could have been yesterday, for all that the memory hadn’t faded, though it was all of what, six years ago? Six years, a month, and three days, to be exact. It was odd, really, to be thinking of such things, on this morning of all mornings. Richard was coming soon, the first man who had ever loved him back, the best of men, his dearest darling, whom he hadn’t seen for far too bloody long. Thomas stood in the courtyard of Downton, waiting, smoking, impatient, and yet staring at those cobblestones as if he could still hear the wheels of the wagon that had carried Jimmy away. A wry smile crossed his face, and he stubbed out the cigarette end under his foot.</p><p>Suddenly, the courtyard door opened, and Andy stuck his head out.</p><p>“Mr Barrow … phone … “</p><p>Thomas nodded and started towards the door.</p><p>“Hello love, it’s me. The train from Kings Cross left late, and I’ve missed the connection at Doncaster – won’t be with you till tea-time, sorry.”</p><p>“Well, I suppose I forgive the LNER for its failings, but don’t you get talking to any strange men on the platform now.”</p><p>“As if I would! Anyway, I’ve already had a most intriguing encounter on that ruddy train – got talking to the chap opposite.”</p><p>“Did you really?”</p><p>“Yeah, really attractive blond … “</p><p>“Was he indeed?”</p><p>“Yeah … used to work at Downton he said, got sacked for being in the wrong bed at the wrong time, he said … “</p><p>“Bloody hell, not … “</p><p>“Yes, one James Kent, Esquire, going for an interview at the Assembly Rooms in Harrogate. Apparently they need a new resident pianist.”</p><p>“Well, he could do that job standing on his head … but why would he want it? He was always cracking on about bright lights, glamour, the big city. Harrogate’s all maiden aunts and rheumatic colonels. He’ll go nuts there in a week!”</p><p>“He said he’d had quite enough of all that and wanted to settle down to something a bit steadier.”</p><p>“Blimey, he’s only, what, thirty-two? That makes him sound positively middle-aged!”</p><p>“We’re all getting there, Thomas … ”</p><p>“Cheeky bugger, you’re older than me anyway!”</p><p>“Yeah, by three months and fourteen days, as you never tire of reminding me.”</p><p>“Is <span class="u">he</span> waiting for another train?”</p><p>“No, his connection went about three minutes ago. He just made it. Gave me his card, he did, wants you to ring him up.”</p><p>“Christ all-bloody-mighty, he’s got a nerve!”</p><p>“Yeah, he said as much when he gave it to me. Shall I just chuck it away, then?”</p><p>This time a real smirk crossed Thomas’s face.</p><p>“No, bring it. I’ll call him. If he gets the job, I’ll ask him over. I feel I’d quite like to tell that “boy” a few things.”</p><p>“I love it when you’re angry! Can I watch?”</p><p>“Angry? Nah … still a bit pissed off with him? Yeah, just a <span class="u">very</span> little … and, yes, you should be there … Er, did you … tell him? I mean … “</p><p>“About us? Not in so many words. I talked a bit about the royal visit, ‘n’ that. I think he <span class="u">might</span> have noticed a few things … “</p><p>“Well, he never was the subtlest of men.” Thomas sighed.</p><p>“Thank God for that, or where would I be?”</p><p>“You know, I’ve never thought about that … nor, my darling, will I ever need to … never … “</p><p>Thomas positively beamed down the phone.</p><p>“Listen, the money’s going to run out on this call in a tick. I should be at Downton about five o’clock. Can you bribe Mrs Patmore to save me some cake?”</p><p>“No problem, you know she adores you, just like the rest of ‘em do. Whether I’ll <span class="u">leave</span> you any is another matter … “</p><p>The phone started beeping, “Better go, see you soon, love you.”</p><p>“Love you t …” <em>Whirrrrrr</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It was three years since that royal visit, when the King’s Second Valet had caught and been caught by the Earl’s Butler. The crescent-moon key-fob still lay next to Thomas’s heart all day, and a silver pocket-watch, engraved inside its case with the words “Always. T”, never left Richard’s waistcoat pocket. Their love was strong, in spite of its necessarily furtive nature and the short time they could spend in one another’s company. There was trust as well as lust, tiny flickering public glances as well as hours of passion in locked rooms, hunger for one another in body and soul. Both could sometimes hardly believe their luck.</p><p>A couple of years before, and with some prodding from Lady Mary, her father had offered Thomas an estate cottage in the grounds, near enough to be on call, but far enough away for real privacy, which she had noticed he craved more than ever. Richard Ellis was known to everyone at Downton, upstairs and down: the staff remembered him as the only one of the royal servants to be neither a snob nor a pain in the neck, and on subsequent visits, he had (figuratively at least) charmed the pants off them all. As for those above the green baize door: the Earl had needed a quiet few words of explanation from his wife about Thomas’s “situation”, while the only other comment was, unsurprisingly, from the Dowager. Seated between her granddaughters one Sunday evening after dinner, she had fixed her son with a beady eye across a glass of Green Chartreuse, and said very quietly, “Robert, they’re both extremely ornamental, have perfect manners, and obviously very good taste, not least in one another. If we don’t make a fuss, they certainly won’t … and the law is an ass.” The matter was never discussed again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>LNER = London and North Eastern Railway, a company that operated between 1923 and 1948, between London, the North of England and Scotland.<br/>For those readers not from Britain, Harrogate is a large town in North Yorkshire, not far from Ripon, and famous since the nineteenth century for its "spa" waters and pleasure gardens.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. An arrangement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Richard and Thomas had a wonderful few days, renewing, exploring, loving, AND they were able tentatively to arrange to see one another again only a month later: the Royals were taking an Easter break at Sandringham, and His Maj was only taking his no. 1 valet. Richard would be surplus to requirements, and was sure he could wangle a few days off over the holiday week-end. Thomas was truly happy for the first time in his life, such that even a week later, and even when busy at his desk after breakfast sorting out accounts, he was in a remarkably good mood.</p><p>Suddenly the phone rang again:</p><p>“ … and nine makes a hundred and seven … or is it eight? … Oh, damn the ruddy phone!”</p><p>It was still screaming in his ear.</p><p>“Good morning, Downton Abbey,” he said rather savagely into the mouthpiece.</p><p>There was a little silence, then anxious breathing came down the line, but no words.</p><p>“This is Down … “</p><p>“Yes I know that,” came a tiny voice.</p><p>“J – Jimmy? Jimmy Kent?”</p><p>“Yes, Thomas, this is Jimmy.”</p><p>It was Thomas’s turn to be silent, then in a whisper that could have been heard a hundred yards away,</p><p>“Where the hell have you been, you little … ?!”</p><p>Another silence.</p><p>“I … I … “</p><p>“Yes … “</p><p>“I meant to write … I really did, I just … “</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“I couldn’t say what I wanted to say … “</p><p>“Is that so? … it’s been six years, Jimmy, six VERY SILENT YEARS!” Thomas’s voice rose to a shout. He was shaking all over.</p><p>“I … I g-got the job in Harrogate.”</p><p>“Did you now?” came the acid-dripping response.</p><p>“Yes, they’re sorting out some digs for me, and I start next month: a tea dance on Easter Monday.”</p><p>“Oh, the glamour of it all … “</p><p>“Nah, not that, but at least it’s steady work, and the money’s decent … “</p><p>Another silence, rather a long one, then,</p><p>“Good for you, Jimmy.” Thomas’s voice was suddenly warm. “No, really, I mean it … sorry … sorry I yelled at you.”</p><p>“You had every reason.”</p><p>“Well, maybe … I did write, you know, three times, but then a letter got returned “addressee unknown”, so … “</p><p>“Yeah, I was bad about that … it didn’t last at Anstruther’s … “</p><p>“Really? You amaze me!” Now Thomas was smirking.</p><p>“Nah, silly old bat she was … I was a bloody fool, too … “</p><p>“I couldn’t possibly comment! … Now look, Jimmy, all things being equal we could talk half the morning away, but … when are you coming up to Harrogate?”</p><p>“I’m moving into me new digs on the Wednesday before Easter, April the sixteenth.”</p><p>“ … and you’re not working till the Monday?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Good, I have a proposal for you: come and stay for a few days, say Thursday to Sunday. I have my own cottage on the estate now … “</p><p>“Thomas, that’d be great, thank you!“</p><p>“You’re very welcome. Oh, there’s a spare bedroom, you’ll be quite … safe.”</p><p>“Thomas, you needn’t … !”</p><p>“I should bloody well hope not, but still … and there’ll be … no, no, not now … “</p><p>“Whas tha’?”</p><p>Wrinkling his eyebrows, Thomas did a perfect imitation of Carson, “No, James, it’s none of <span class="u">your</span> con-<span class="u">cern</span>.”</p><p>Jimmy guffawed. “It’ll be like old times.”</p><p>“Well, perhaps it will ... <em>and perhaps it won’t </em>… now, I really <span class="u">must</span> get on, wine-bills to add up … again! See you on the seventeenth. If you turn up at about five you might even get some tea.”</p><p>“ … and chocolate cake?”</p><p>“Cheeky beggar! I’ll inform Mrs Patmore of your scheduled appearance, and we shall see what we shall see. Mind you behave yourself – she’s still a dab hand with that wooden spoon of ‘ers, and it still encounters wayward footmen’s ears and fingers almost as often as it does a mixing-bowl!”</p><p>“She’d better not bash MY fingers! I’m an artiste, it’s me livin’!”</p><p>“Well, ‘ark at bleedin’ Paderewski! Just keep yer fingers to yerself then, and don’t chat up the kitchen maid – she bites as well!”</p><p>“Blimey, some things <span class="u">have</span> changed!”</p><p>“Yeah, some things have indeed,” <em>I wonder whether you have the faintest idea</em>, “but the work is always waitin’, and luncheon service starts rather too soon for my liking! So, off with you, I must get these figures finished!”</p><p>“Bye, Thomas, and … thanks again.”</p><p>“It’ll be good to see you, really … Bye Jimmy.”</p><p>
  <em>Click.</em>
</p><p>“Well, Master James Kent, we shall most certainly see what we shall see,” muttered Thomas. He smiled wrily, “Now, where the <span class="u">hell</span> was !?” He scowled at the ledger. “Gawd, let’s just start the whole lot again!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ignacy Jan Paderewski (1860-1941) was an internationally famous pianist, who was also Prime Minister of Poland for a short time after World War One.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A conversation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>... an unexpected one</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next few weeks were busy: Tom Branson, who had married Lucy Smith, Lady Maud Bagshaw’s “ward” the previous year, brought her on a visit – she was “in an interesting condition”, as Jane Austen would have put it, which led to quite a lot of feminine twittering both above and below stairs. Lady Bagshaw herself stayed with the Dowager: that marriage had sealed their reconciliation, and they had a high old gossipy time. There had also been quite a lavish dinner or two for Thomas to supervise, with special wines to decant, fancy pieces of family silver to polish and the like, as well as a lunch for the local farming community and two cocktail parties. He had been pleased with the way all that had gone, so was a little surprised to be summoned to the Library the day after the visitors had left – Lady Mary “wanted a word”.</p><p>Steeling himself from force of habit if nothing else, Thomas took a deep breath and knocked on the Library door.</p><p>“Come.”</p><p>Lady Mary was sitting on the sofa near the fire, commandeering a tray of “coffee things” set on a small table before her.</p><p>“Ah, Barrow,” she said as he entered, “thank you for coming to see me.”</p><p>“M’lady … er, is there a problem with anything?” He stood at a respectful distance, hands behind his back, the picture of service.</p><p>“Not in the least.” Mary quirked an eyebrow and observed him narrowly, “Unless, that is, you find my next request a problem?”</p><p>“Well, m’lady, I … “</p><p>Mary laughed quietly, “No, don’t worry, I am not about to chastise you! The request is: please sit down.” She gestured to the sofa on the opposite side of the fire.</p><p>“Oh, but m’lady … “</p><p>“Ah-ah, naughty!” She smiled. “Do as you’re told … please.”</p><p>He did.</p><p>“How do you like your coffee?”</p><p>“Er, well, er … “</p><p>“Oh, come on, Barrow, don’t be daft! You do drink the stuff, I suppose!”</p><p>Well, yes. M’lady, but … “</p><p>“But nothing! Milk? Sugar?”</p><p>“Yes, milk, please … one sugar.”</p><p>“There you are, you see, even I can manage that!”</p><p>Mary stood and brought the cup of coffee to him. In the other hand she carried a plate, which she held out to him. “I imagine you also like Mrs Patmore’s shortbread?”</p><p>Thomas patted his stomach with a rueful smile. “Rather too much, if I’m honest.” He took one nonetheless.</p><p>Mary sat down, “Ah, yes, honesty. That’s really what I wanted to talk to you about.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh, Lor’, here we go …</em>
</p><p>“I haven’t always been honest in my life, Barrow.”</p><p>“If I may say so, m’lady, has anyone?”</p><p>“Hah, very probably not, but I just wanted to say something about all the dinners and so forth we’ve had here recently. In a word, they were faultless, perfect. I wish you to convey the family’s thanks to all the staff, and I want to thank you especially. You are a credit to this house, and I don’t know what we’d do without you.”</p><p>“Thank you, m’lady.” <em>About time …</em></p><p>“I haven’t always appreciated your gifts, Barrow, and I’m sorry for it.”</p><p><em>Blimey!</em> “Well, m’lady, I … “</p><p>Mary held up a hand.</p><p>“Please, Barrow, I haven’t finished.”</p><p>Thomas stared at his coffee.</p><p>“I remember you coming to Downton, when we were both almost children still. We were all so glad to have a decorative footman about the place.” Thomas blushed furiously. “Then there was James, wasn’t there?”</p><p>Thomas squirmed in his seat.</p><p>“Yes, m’lady … “</p><p>“What a pair you were serving at dinner … a very handsome pair at that. You know, I used to think of you two as “salt-and-pepper”, human cruet – that wasn’t very nice of me, was it?”</p><p>“Well, ma’am, I … “</p><p>Mary held up her hand again, “Hang on, Barrow, I’m in full flow! You <span class="u">were</span> a very decorative pair, unlike the ex-hotel flagpole … “ She raised both eyebrows, “what was his name again?”</p><p>“Alfred, m’lady.”</p><p>“That’s right, he was the vile Miss O’Brien’s extremely vertical nephew, wasn’t he? Why mother put up with that woman I shall never know … she was very good with hair, but still … “ Mary paused, then,</p><p>“She absconded to India with Rose’s mother, did she not?”</p><p>“Yes, m’lady.” <em>I ‘ope this isn’t going on all morning, I’ve got things to do …</em></p><p>“ … and you disappeared from view for a fortnight once … no, twice. Now, the first time you took a beating for the man you loved, the second time you tried to kill yourself. Am I right?”</p><p>Thomas jumped to his feet, white in the face, “M’lady, I … “</p><p>“No, Thomas, please ...please sit down, I’m sorry, I just have to get this all out, so you know what I know. It’s damnable, keeping it all under wraps. I want there to be no secrets between us, and do you know why? Because you and I will be the ones to keep this old heap … “ she gestured around the room, “standing for the next generations, so we need to be straight with each other … I think you also know a few dark things from <span class="u">my</span> past … Mr Pamuk, for a start.”</p><p>“Good heavens,” breathed Thomas. “May I speak freely, m’lady?”</p><p>“Oh, for God’s sake, yes!”</p><p>“I made a pass at him too.”</p><p>Mary stared at Thomas, then burst out laughing, wagging a finger at him, “Granny said you have good taste, and she was right, as usual!” She shook her head, “My God, that was a weird business!”</p><p>She took a sip of her coffee. “Master James Kent was found <em>in flagrante</em> with the frightful Lady Anstruther, wasn’t he? On the night you saved Edith from the fire?”</p><p>Thomas swallowed hard. “He sent her Valentines, m’lady. Not to put too fine a point on it, he was practically begging for it.”</p><p>“Silly, silly boy … when he could have had you.”</p><p>Thomas blushed again, to the tips of his ears</p><p>“I didn’t know you could be bashful, Barrow, it’s rather endearing.” She paused. “Is he still in that lady’s, er, service?”</p><p>“No, ma’m, he told me it didn’t last. I believe he’s been playing piano in various establishments in London.”</p><p>“Goodness me, looking like that and a kitten on the keys. I bet he gets big tips!”</p><p>“Funnily enough, he’s moving back up here soon.“</p><p>“Why on earth … ?”</p><p>“He’s tired of the bright lights, so he tells me, wants something steadier. The next time you’re in Harrogate, m’lady, call in at the Assembly Rooms, and he’ll be “kittening” away to the rheumatic multitudes.”</p><p>“Will he indeed, very glamorous!”</p><p>“That’s what I told him.” Thomas paused. “He rang the other day, he’s coming to stay for the Easter weekend.”</p><p>“Is he now? So, I imagine is Mr Ellis.”</p><p>“Well, m’lady, I … “</p><p>“And does Master Kent know what he’s in for?”</p><p>“Hmf, nothing scan … well, nothing more scandalous than … “ He stared at his coffee again.</p><p> “Barrow, what goes on within the four walls of that cottage is none of my business. Just don’t frighten the neighbours, eh? As to Mr Ellis, I read in The Times that their Majesties were decamping to Sandringham for a fortnight, and put two and two together. I didn’t get my father to give you the cottage just so you could grow cabbages or have a lawn all of your very own to mow, you know! We “posh” ladies don’t always say much (though I know I say a lot more than most), but we certainly notice things.” A pause – she regarded Thomas narrowly. “It was a three-pronged attack, by the way – me, my mother, and granny. His Lordship didn’t stand a chance!”</p><p>“M’lady, you know how grateful I am, er, we are, er … “ he was blushing again.</p><p>“How are things downstairs?”</p><p>“Good, I think. Andy is now an excellent footman, and Albert, who was a hall-boy, will become one in time, he’s very keen. Miss Baxter … sorry, Mrs Moseley is radiant, as is Anna, as always. Even Mrs Hughes seems more relaxed.” He stopped suddenly, feeling a little embarrassed.</p><p>“Now that her husband isn’t breathing down her neck all day long, you mean, but is growing <span class="u">his</span> cabbages and mowing <span class="u">his</span> lawn. Yes, Barrow, quite so: Carson was wonderful to me when I was little, and I love him dearly, but … “ now Mary took a deep breath, “I’ve been meaning to say this for a long time: I shouldn’t have panicked over the royal visit. I behaved very badly towards you, and I want to apologise. I’m only sorry it’s taken me, what, three years to do so!” She stared into the fire, breathing a little fast.</p><p>“Blimey”, whispered Thomas.</p><p>Mary turned back towards him, a little smile on her face. “You know we are all delighted at the change in your personal life. Mr Ellis seems a fine man.”</p><p>“He is, m’lady.”</p><p>“ … and … and you love him.”</p><p>“Yes, m’lady.”</p><p>“Good, it is wonderful to love and be loved. You and I are both very lucky, in spite of past misfortunes.” She smiled again, and so did Thomas.</p><p>“Yes, m’lady.”</p><p>Another silence fell, then Thomas stood up. “Will that be all, m’lady?”</p><p>“For now, yes, Barrow, though I think it might be a good idea for us to have a little chat like this now and again, don’t you?”</p><p>“If you wish, m’lady.”</p><p>“I do, Barrow, it would be a great help to me … and … thank you.”</p><p>Thomas bowed and left, his mind whirling. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A plot (or rather, two)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>... the wheels begin to whirr</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The routine of Downton trundled on, from one stately day to another. Lady Mary was taking on more and more of the management of the estate, but without Tom to help her, had been finding it all rather a strain. She had hired an accountant from a firm in Ripon, but that didn’t feel right, somehow. As she said to her mother over tea one day, “He’s perfectly competent, but he’s a stranger, he’s not invested in the place, it’s all just numbers to him.”</p><p>“Couldn’t Henry help?”</p><p>“He has enough trouble running the car saleroom, and he hates doing the figures in any case. No, we’ll just have to soldier on for now, but I don’t see it lasting … “ She suddenly paused and stared into space. “I wonder,” she murmured.</p><p>“What do you wonder?”</p><p>“As it stands, I just wonder, but … “</p><p>“My dear, you’re plotting something.”</p><p>“Maybe I am, mamma, but … I’ll keep it to myself for now - it’s crazy … but it might just be the perfect solution.”</p><p>“That sounds ominous.”</p><p>“What does?” asked the Earl, wandering into the room.</p><p>“Mary’s plotting.”</p><p>“Oh, dear, not again!”</p><p>Mary eyed her parents with a steely glance, “You know full well that the only person in this family better at plots than me is granny! In fact, she is the one person I intend discussing it with.”</p><p>“Why do I not find that reassuring?” muttered her father.</p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p>Whatever it was, Mary took herself off the next day to the Dower House, and returned looking even more pleased with herself than ever, but otherwise “mum” was very much the word.</p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p>By now Easter was only ten days away, and the idea Thomas had had when talking to Jimmy really needed sorting out. Fortunately, Richard had confirmed in one of their daily late-evening phone-calls that he <span class="u">had</span> been able to wangle some time off:</p><p>“That’s great, love, when can you get here?”</p><p>“Thursday lunchtime, and I can stay till Tuesday morning.”</p><p>“Wonderful! So, you can be here for servant’s lunch, and … you remember “Master” Kent’s turning up later that day, don’t you?”</p><p>“Oh, yes, I can’t wait to be a fly on the wall! How much of an earful are you thinking of giving him?”</p><p>“I suppose that depends on how well he behaves himself. <span class="u">You</span> know <span class="u">he’s</span> coming, but he has <span class="u">no</span> inkling that you’re going to be there.”</p><p>“Aha, so shall I hide in a cupboard till you say the magic word, then jump out stark naked, with a red ribbon tied round my dick, yelling “gift-wrapped”?”</p><p>Thomas sniggered down the phone, “Well, er, no, not quite, my love, I just want us to be "normal" when he's around, behave as if he weren't, and see how he reacts."</p><p>"Uh-uh, I wonder how he'll feel, being treated like a lab rat?"</p><p>"Well," answered Thomas with a little sigh, "He did once say he wanted me to be happy. Let's find out whether he meant it."</p><p>"You know, sometimes I'm very glad I'm not on the wrong side of you!"</p><p>"Hah, as if ... ! Now, practicalities: would you be a complete darling and ... cook supper for us?”</p><p>“I could try. Shall I bring something fancy up from town? Parma Ham, quail’s eggs … your wish is my command!”</p><p>“Quail’s eggs! I haven’t had those since Mrs Patmore rapped my knuckles for stealing some off a serving plate at least ten years ago. Could you get some celery salt as well, ‘n’ I’ll get a leg of spring lamb from the butcher in the village.”</p><p>“Baked apples with cream for pudding?”</p><p>“Perfect!”</p><p>“Well, we want your “young man” to feel looked after … “</p><p>“Hah! That he is <span class="u">not</span>, you great sausage, he never was … “</p><p>“Could’ve been though … ”</p><p>“Nah, not him, there was never a chance, not really … mind you, you’re the second person who’s said that to me recently.”</p><p>“Am I indeed? Who, pray, was the other?”</p><p>“A lady I know.”</p><p>“Ooh, secrets, secrets, I in-<span class="u">sist</span> you tell me!”</p><p>“It’ll keep till next week, and be all the better for it.”</p><p>A little silence fell.</p><p>“Missing you so much,” said Richard.</p><p>“You too.”</p><p>“Love you so much.”</p><p>“You too.”</p><p>“I’m gonna make love to you so much.”</p><p>“Hm-<span class="u">mmmm</span>, for hours and hours, and we’ll be … noisy. “</p><p>“Perhaps you’d better tell Master James to bring some earplugs.”</p><p>“I think he’ll survive.”</p><p>Another little silence, then they both burst out laughing.</p><p>“Counting the days.”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>“It can never be soon enough.”</p><p>“I know.” Thomas sighed.</p><p>“Love you.”</p><p>“Love you too.”</p><p>“G’night, my darling.”</p><p>“G’night, my love.”</p><p>
  <em>Click … click</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Ice-cream and Anchovies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>... and more mutterings in corners. The "nitty-gritty" is coming soon, I promise.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next few days both flew by and dragged on, at least from Thomas’s viewpoint. It was to be a quiet Easter at the Abbey with no fancy catering to organise. He had a meeting with the Earl to talk about a wine-buying trip that was deemed necessary in the near future, and there was a flurry in the kitchen when the electric food-mixer “died” in the middle of making a cake, but otherwise all was pretty hum-drum.</p><p>Maundy Thursday dawned dully. At twenty-past-six Thomas stood at his kitchen sink, early morning tea in hand, and smiled secretly to himself: <em>not long now</em>. He shrugged on his Butler’s “gear” and an overcoat, hat and gloves (the spring mornings were still chilly), and set off towards the house – the smile didn’t leave him. He went to his office, divested himself of his coat, etc., and, there still wanting ten minutes of seven, sat in the chair by the fireplace, where one of the hallboys had duly lit a small fire. Some days at this time he would sneak a look at “The Times” before it was ironed ready for the Earl’s perusal, but not today: Thomas just sat staring at the flames and thinking, still smiling a little: … <em>sometimes I still think it’s all a dream …</em></p><p>The tinkling of the clock on the mantel roused him from his reverie. “Breakfast … good … ,“ he murmured.</p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p>It was a routine morning, busy, but not madly so. Thomas took coffee (and more shortbread) at eleven, checked some more accounts, and then oversaw upstairs luncheon, which saw Robert Grantham and his daughter served three courses by a butler and two footmen (the Countess was in York on “hospital business”, while Henry Talbot was, as usual on a week-day, interfering with a car’s innards).</p><p>
  <em>One day they’ll realise just how batty this is, and then where will we all be?</em>
</p><p>As Thomas was tidying the room at the end of the meal, Lady Mary sidled over,</p><p>“Mr Ellis is coming this weekend as you hoped?” she murmured.</p><p>“Yes, Milady, he’s arriving very soon.”</p><p>“ … and staying till … “</p><p>“Tuesday morning, m’lady.”</p><p>“Good. I know you’ve had years of training, but I shall be watching you <span class="u">very</span> closely at <span class="u">every</span> meal, to see just how good you are at hiding your yawns.”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow. So did Thomas.</p><p>“We’re all going to the races at Thirsk on Monday, Bertie and Edith have invited us. They’re putting on a fancy lunch, so we’ll just have sandwiches and some sort of pudding in the evening. Would you tell Mrs Patmore, please?”</p><p>“His Lordship’s already had a word about that, m’lady. He wants chicken salad sandwiches on white bread, ham-and-cheese on brown, followed by bread-and-butter pudding.”</p><p>“With custard, cream, or ice-cream?”</p><p>“Custard for His Lordship always – he told me it reminded him of school food, and in a good way.”</p><p>“Golly, I loathe the stuff! Cream AND ice-cream for me, Barrow.”</p><p>“Yes, m’lady, I’ll make sure Mrs Patmore makes another batch of vanilla ice-cream specially.”</p><p>“Excellent! It’s dreadful, really, I eat like a pig, and am still as thin as a rake.”</p><p>“I wish we could all say the same, m’lady.”</p><p>“Hah … and I have another request, Barrow.”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am.”</p><p>“You said Mr Ellis will be here till Tuesday?”</p><p>“Yes, m’lady.”</p><p>“Hmm … let me think, yes, Sunday, after I have drunk enough at lunchtime to expunge all memories of what will not doubt be one of Mr Travis’s more tiresome sermons (he always manages to make the Resurrection sound like a miscalculation). Might I ask you and Mr Ellis to meet me in the Library, at … shall we say three-thirty?”</p><p>“Yes, m’lady, of course. Might I ask what this is about?”</p><p>“No, not really. Let me just say I’ve had a mad idea that I wish to run past you two gentlemen.”</p><p>“I see, m’lady … er, will that be all, ma’am.”</p><p>”Yes, Barrow, thank you.”</p><p>Thomas exited stiff-backed, but greatly wondering.</p><p>
  <em>What is she up to?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Thomas’s mind was buzzing with that conversation as he went down the service stairs. He went to his office, and there was Richard, a glass of sherry at his lips, but not for long. They embraced and kissed passionately, gazing into one another’s eyes.</p><p>“Something very odd has just happened,” said Thomas.</p><p>“Blimey, not another surprise?!” Richard ran his hand through Thomas’s hair and kissed him again.</p><p>“Well, maybe, I dunno. Now, come on, lunch, I’m starving!”</p><p>“Pork chops, or so I’m reliably informed … “</p><p> </p><p>Pork chops it was, with treacle sponge and custard for pudding. As usual, everyone around the table tried to quiz Richard about “goings on” at the Palace, and, as usual, he was the soul of discretion: it was more than his job was worth for him not to be. He was as charming as ever, nonetheless, and at the end of the meal, went to the kitchen, and crept up behind Mrs Patmore, who was standing in front of the new food-mixer, instruction book in hand, scratching her head and muttering “I know I’m going to hate you even more than the last one!”. He grabbed her round the waist and whispered hotly in her ear, “Your treacle sponge is a wonder of this world!”</p><p>She turned in a trice and smacked him very gently on the nose with said instruction book,</p><p>“And your flattery will get you … oooh, anywhere and everywhere, I suppose! Is this how you always address women of a certain age, hm?”</p><p>She waved the booklet at him threateningly.</p><p>“<span class="u">Only</span> for their treacle sponge,” he replied, beaming.</p><p>She flapped at him with both hands.</p><p>“Oh, go on with you!”</p><p>“But Mrs P, I can’t go!” Richard fell to his knees. “I <span class="u">need</span> you!”</p><p>She glared at him, arms akimbo. “What are you blatherin’ on about?”</p><p>“I have to cook a leg of lamb for supper … <em>for you know who </em>… ,“ he whispered hoarsely, “<em>and I haven’t the faintest clue!”</em></p><p>“Aha! Now just you come and sit over here, and I’ll give you some tips … " He did, and she did, muttering mysteriously, “<em>anchovies</em>, <em>anchovies are what you need … </em>“ Richard could hardly believe his ears, but: <em> she knows, yer know!</em></p><p>The conversation went on for some time, till Richard, still looking a little puzzled, emerged from the store cupboard with a head of garlic, a bunch of rosemary, and a little tin of anchovy fillets. He waved the latter at Thomas, who was sitting in his customary rocking-chair smoking his customary cigarette, muttered “<em>Anchovies</em>” in a very knowing way, and then “see you later … nine-thirty-ish?”</p><p>Thomas was utterly bemused.</p><p>
  <em>“Up” and “down”, this place is going bonkers!</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The use of anchovies, rolled with sliced garlic and fresh rosemary, and stuffed inside incisions cut into a leg of lamb to be roasted "in the usual manner", is well attested, and very delicious.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A visitor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>... the ?prodigal returns</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>The afternoon was also a routine one, not least since Thomas had had the sense not to tell anyone about their unexpected visitor. Andy and Albert did some silver-polishing, Mrs Patmore scratched her head some more in front of the new food-mixer, and Thomas at last had the time to sit in his favourite rocking-chair in front of the fire and tussle with the Times crossword. The only sound in the servants’ hall came from quiet conversation between Anna and Phyllis as they did some mending for their respective ladies. At about four-fifteen the kitchen staff started putting out trays of cakes and scones for upstairs tea, and bang on four-thirty the two footmen took them up to the Library. Thomas had dozed off over seven across, but was roused by a ring at the service door. A little sleepily he trundled down the corridor and opened the door, to be enveloped in an enormous bear-hug from Jimmy, and, to his amazement, a kiss on the cheek. Jimmy buried his face in Thomas’s chest, and just murmured his name over and over.</p>
<p>When Thomas finally managed to extract himself from that embrace and drag his guest to the tea-table, everyone else was equally flabbergasted, and bombarded Jimmy with questions: where had he been, what had he been doing, why was he here, how, when, who, and so forth. In the midst of the conversational maelstrom Phyllis exchanged a confidential look with Thomas, who replied with the tiniest of nods and a little smile.</p>
<p>Suddenly, Mrs Hughes, who had been looking on benignly for several minutes, asked, “Are you here just for the evening, Jimmy?”</p>
<p>“No, Tho … Mr Barrow has invited me to stay for a few days.”</p>
<p>“A-hah! That’ll be … ”</p>
<p>Thomas caught the housekeeper’s eye and brought a finger to his lips for a moment: <em>please don’t say a word</em>. Anna saw the gesture, and winked at him.</p>
<p>“ … nice for you both. Just don’t get Mr Barrow staying up till all hours like you used to!” She addressed the company, “They’d sit down the end of this table smoking and playing cards till the Lord knew when … and that was the least of it! Do you remember, Jimmy, the evening you took Ivy out to the pictures? I believe the modern term for the state of the pair of you on your return is “plastered” ... no “sozzled” maybe! Perhaps “out of it", hm?”</p>
<p>“Please, Mrs Hughes,” moaned Jimmy, “I’m a changed man … er, respectable, and, er … sober … <span class="u">most</span> of the time … “</p>
<p>“While, in other news,” broke in Thomas in his most cutting tones, “two pigs have today been seen flying backwards round the Eiffel Tower.”</p>
<p>Everybody laughed, even Jimmy.</p>
<p>“Now, everyone, back to it,” resumed Thomas, “the Dowager Countess is coming to dinner this evening, so let’s show them all ”upstairs” that we’re not getting slack.” He straightened his livery, and brushed an imaginary piece of lint from Albert’s left shoulder.</p>
<p>“Jimmy, you’re not on duty, so stay and have more cake - you won’t be getting your supper for quite a while. Dinner service should be over about nine-fifteen, and then we’ll go down to the cottage, OK?”</p>
<p>“Right you are, boss!” replied Jimmy with a smirk. <em>If he’s upstairs till nine, who’s cookin’ me dinner?</em></p>
<p>Just like old times, Jimmy was shooed out of the kitchen more than once during the next few hours, only just missing a clip round the ear from Mrs Patmore when he ventured to steal a spoonful of Sauce Béarnaise. He tried a few chords on the piano that still stood in the corner, and was horrified at how out of tune it was. He dared to sit in Thomas’s rocking-chair, and, even without trying to do the crossword, (something he’d never been able to fathom), also fell fast asleep over “The Times”.</p>
<p>A gentle shake of the shoulder roused him, and Thomas said quietly,</p>
<p>“Come on, sleepyhead, din-dins.”</p>
<p>“Oh, er, yes, great … “ He stood up, “I’ll get me coat … “</p>
<p>It was only a short walk to Thomas’s cottage, and they walked in companionable silence, though Jimmy was bursting with questions. Perhaps Thomas was as well, though he said nothing.</p>
<p>Thomas opened the front door, and waved Jimmy in.</p>
<p>“Here we are, home, sweet home.”</p>
<p>“Hello-oh,” called a voice from the kitchen, and a certain gentleman, familiar to many, appeared at the end of the hall, brandishing a gin bottle.</p>
<p>Thomas went up to Richard, cupped his cheek, and kissed him very gently, “Hello, my darling. May I introduce my old, er, colleague, Jimmy Kent? Jimmy, this is Richard Ellis, my lover.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Another conversation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>... drinks and revelations</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>To do him credit, Jimmy barely blinked, though he seemed a little lost for words, and he was blushing. He took off his glove and shook Richard’s hand, but then didn’t let go,</p><p>“Haven’t we met before?”</p><p>Richard raised his eyebrows and smiled, “The train, remember, you were on your way to Harrogate for your interview.”</p><p>“ … and you were sitting opposite! You work for the King, and you were on your way to visit your parents in York … “</p><p>Now it was Thomas’s turn to smile, “Ostensibly,” he murmured.</p><p>Jimmy blushed again, “Oh, so you were really on your way … “</p><p>“Yes, Jimmy, you big lemon, to see <span class="u">me</span>!” exclaimed Thomas with some exasperation.</p><p>“Ah … “ came the answer, accompanied by another blush.</p><p>“Are we going to stand here all night nattering in the hallway, or do you both want some of this?” Richard waved the gin bottle again. “I know I do.” He disappeared back into the kitchen and much clinking of glasses ensued.</p><p>“Drop your case, Jimmy,” said Thomas, “And take your coat off – there are hangers behind you and the sitting room’s through here.” He pointed through an open door on the right.</p><p>Jimmy did as he was bade. It was a small room, but cosy, with a roaring fire. There was just room for a little sofa and two armchairs. Jimmy sat in the chair to the left of the fireplace, Thomas in the one opposite. A slightly uncomfortable silence fell, then they both spoke at once,</p><p>“Thomas, I feel so stupid … “ “Sorry, perhaps I should have told you … “</p><p>Richard backed into the room carrying a large tray. Wheeling round, he knelt down and deposited it on the hearthrug, and said, “Jimmy, you’re not stupid in the least!” Still on his knees, he shuffled across the floor and kissed Thomas, “and I love being a surprise.”</p><p>Thomas grabbed his hand and kissed it, “The best one that ever happened to me,” he murmured.</p><p>“Ohhhh … “ sighed Jimmy to himself.</p><p>Richard turned back to him. “How do you like your gin? Just lemon peel or a slice? Lots of ice?”</p><p>“Er, a slice and lots, please,” came the breathy reply. Jimmy couldn’t look at him.</p><p>“Where’ve you gone, Jimmy?” said Thomas.</p><p>“What? Oh, er, nowhere special.”</p><p>Richard held out a tumbler containing a lot of gin and an open bottle of tonic. “Here you are.” Jimmy was still looking down. Richard bent down and tried to meet his eyes. Jimmy suddenly looked straight at him, and then at Thomas. His eyes were full of tears.</p><p>“This must be rather strange for you, hm?” said Richard.</p><p>“Yeah, just a bit,” whispered Jimmy. He rubbed a hand across his face and took the proffered drink. “Thanks … I just didn’t know, I haven’t seen … “</p><p>“Two ordinary blokes who love each other,” said Thomas very quietly.</p><p>Richard handed him a gin-and-tonic, ready-mixed, and then sat cross-legged on the floor at Thomas’s feet. He sipped his own drink, then said,</p><p>“Well, Jimmy, Thomas and I are living proof that it can happen. We’re not monsters, we’re not evil … “</p><p>“And the only people we molest are one another,” added Thomas with a wry smile, “as often as possible.”</p><p>“Does Thomas ever kiss you in your sleep?” Jimmy asked, with the hint of a wicked glint in his eye.</p><p>“Whenever he does, I make sure I wake up bloody fast!”</p><p>“I did that once.”</p><p>“Haven’t forgotten then?” asked Thomas.</p><p>Jimmy stared at his gin, “No, never,” he murmured, then looked at them both. “You’re so lucky.”</p><p>Thomas squeezed Richard’s left shoulder, “We are that, though every day we have to pretend not to be.”</p><p>“I know,” muttered Jimmy fiercely, “ ‘n’ it’s not bloody fair!”</p><p>A little silence fell. “Well, goodness me,” muttered Thomas, “your tune has changed.” He patted Richard’s shoulder, then gestured across the room, “I present Mr James Kent, the queer-friendly version.”</p><p>Richard smacked his hand very gently, “Thomas, don’t be mean.”</p><p>“No, he’s right. I was a right bastard then, stupid, ‘n’ full of meself, ‘n’ … “</p><p>“ … a lot less certain about things than you might have seemed to be?” said Richard. He chuckled, “That’s known as “being young”, I think. We’ve all been there,” Thomas squeezed his shoulder again, “and people can change, not just tunes.”</p><p>“I hope I have,” said Jimmy, staring into the fire.</p><p>Richard stood up. “What will not change anytime soon, unless I do something about it, is the state of our insides. I’ll go and fetch our first courses, and you come through to the dining-room in a minute. Oh, and, Thomas, give the man some more gin.” He zipped out.</p><p>Still staring at the fire, Jimmy spoke, “I say it again, you are so lucky.”</p><p>He turned to Thomas, “That man is a jewel of great price.”</p><p>Thomas looked almost shocked. “I know, and thank you for saying so.” He got up, and crossed the room. Jimmy looked up at him, almost crying again. Thomas bent down, and kissed him on the forehead.</p><p>“Let’s eat.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A long evening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>... and, therefore, a very long chapter. My apologies, but this had to be one "arc".</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Richard had been doing more domestic magic in the dining-room. They devoured the quails’ eggs with great relish; the lamb was perfection, and none of them had much room left for the baked apples, but they all managed, just about.</p><p>After chatting about this, that, and nothing much, and with tongues further loosened by drink, Jimmy suddenly asked, “What was it like, when you first met?”</p><p>Thomas and Richard looked at one another for what seemed like a very long moment. Without taking his eyes off his lover’s face, Thomas reached out and grasped his hand,</p><p>“Like striking a match in a dark and dusty attic, or kindling fire from rotten wood. Like sunlight on frost, like rain in a desert.”</p><p>He turned to Jimmy, “Will that do?”</p><p>“I’ll say,” breathed Jimmy. “Where did that come from?”</p><p>“Dunno really”, said Thomas, with a shrug. He patted his chest, “From in ‘ere, I s’ppose.” He looked at Jimmy again, “I’d thought there was nothing there.”</p><p>Richard got up and stood behind Thomas’s chair. He bent down and embraced him from behind, kissing the top of his head. “You were wrong, thank God.” He looked at Jimmy. “Coffee? I think there’s some brandy about somewhere as well.”</p><p>They went back into the sitting-room. Richard revived the embers of the fire, then disappeared to make the coffee. Jimmy stared at the fire again, then looked at his old friend,</p><p>“Thomas, I am so happy for you, really so, so ha-”, and burst into tears.</p><p>Thomas crossed the room and knelt in front of him. “Hey, old man, what’s all this?”. He hugged Jimmy, who just cried, and cried, and cried.</p><p>Richard returned with the coffee, a half-full brandy bottle and three glasses on a tray. He mouthed, “<em>Shall I go?</em>” Thomas shook his head, and motioned for him to sit down.</p><p>Jimmy’s sobs slowly subsided. Richard handed Thomas a handkerchief, which he gave to Jimmy, who dabbed his eyes, and blew his nose. He looked at them both anxiously,</p><p>“S-sorry, you must think I’m a complete idiot!”</p><p>Thomas held him by the shoulders and looked at him hard, “How about “no”?”</p><p>“Oh, stop bein’ so bloody <span class="u">nice</span>, Thomas!”</p><p>Thomas dropped his hands into his lap, “Well, I <span class="u">had</span> bin thinkin’ of givin’ you a real talkin’ to this ev’nin, but what would that’ve achieved, eh?”</p><p>“I’d’ve deserved it!”</p><p>“Nah, no point, er, water, ‘n’ bridges, ‘n’ tha’.”</p><p>He stood up and sat on the sofa next to Richard, who put an arm round his shoulder.</p><p>Jimmy looked at them again, and smiled a bit wanly.</p><p>“I’ve never forgotten the day I left Downton.”</p><p>“Nor’ve I,” murmured Thomas.</p><p>“I was so bloody miserable about it all. Goin’ back to Anstruther’s was a complete mess: she ‘ad this new lady’s maid, Bertha, who ‘ated me on sight, ‘n’ she weren’t the only one. Then Her Ladyship started getting’ more and more cranky, ‘n’ clingy, ‘n’ demanding. I stood it for more ‘n a year, but one day I just told her straight that it had to stop, it was doin’ my ‘ead in. She’s a funny old duck, ‘n’ was very sweet about it … I shall never forget ‘er callin’ me into ‘er boudoir one afternoon, “Jimmy, this is for you,” she waved an envelope at me, “I have written you a very good character, and, er, there is also a little something in there  for all your, ah, <span class="u">trouble</span>.” I looked inside: ten five-pound notes, more than a year’s salary.</p><p>“Where will you go, Jimmy? What will you do?”</p><p>“Well, Lady A (I always called ‘er that), you know I play the piano?”</p><p>“How not? You have entertained me and my friends many times.”</p><p>“I thought I might try to do that properly, as it were. I have an interview for house pianist at Durrant’s Hotel on Friday.”</p><p>”Durrant’s in Marylebone? I know it well: Lady Harmison lives nearby. It is a fine establishment, very respectable. I wish you every success.”</p><p>Then she stood up ‘n’ ‘eld out ‘er ‘and, “I hope we may part as friends, Jimmy, and that you can forgive an old woman’s folly.”</p><p>She was nearly cryin’ ‘n’ so was I. I shook ‘er ‘and, then I kissed it, ‘n’ ran out of the room.”</p><p>“Durrant’s worked out, the money was pretty good, ‘n’ I’ ad a nice room up on the top floor. I got offered more work elsewhere ‘n’ all, jazz clubs, ‘n’ private parties, embassies, ver-ry nice, but: I didn’t know a soul, I was lonely, I was “the entertainment”, I ‘ad no-one to talk to, no-one to share a cigarette-break with.”</p><p>Thomas and Jimmy looked at one another.</p><p>“I ploughed on, smilin’ for the public, but not inside, ‘n’ then, out of the blue, it all fell apart: the Manager called a general meeting of the staff and announced that the hotel’s owners had gone bankrupt, and that the place was up fer sale. I’d only bin there about a year, so it was “last in, first out”: I was out on me ear within a fortnight, ‘n’ ‘ad to pick up gigs where I could, freelance stuff. It was OK, I found lodgings in a boarding-house near the hotel, not bad, and there were still fancy folk about wanting some “easy background music”, but I did’n’ arf need to take the rough with the smooth: there’s a basement club in Soho I played in once, called “The Behemoth”. Er, interestin’, that was … it’s fer, er … “ Jimmy stopped, blushed, and stared at his hands,</p><p>“People “like us”, if I recall correctly,” said Richard wrily.</p><p>“Yeah, ladies ‘n’ all. You bin there?”</p><p>“Couple o’ times,” replied Richard with a wink.</p><p>“Ooh, Jimmy’s met a lesbian,” cooed Thomas.</p><p>Jimmy raised an eyebrow, “Quite a few, <span class="u">ack</span>-cherly: one of ‘em was in the band. Bloody good saxophonist, she was: Linda was ‘er name, pretty girl, very.” He looked all “dreamy”.</p><p>“No Jimmy,” exclaimed Thomas, “don’t start fallin’ for queer women, fer Gawd’s sake! That might make your life just a tad complicated.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, you just wait!”</p><p>“Blimey … “</p><p>“Well, back last summer I ‘ad this really nice gig in a posh ‘otel in Brighton, all through August, then I stayed on fer a few days, yer know, just lollopin’ about.”</p><p>“You were always good at that!” exclaimed Thomas.</p><p>“Cheeky! Well, anyway, I ‘appen’d to look in me diary one mornin’, and saw … absolutely bugger all. I ‘ad a couple of gigs in late September, then not a sausage till the week before Christmas. I ‘ad rent to pay, ‘n’ a man must eat.”</p><p>“And you ‘adn’t saved a bloomin’ farthin’, ‘ad yer?” said Thomas.</p><p>“Of course not, not one! So, what to do? I called a couple of music agencies, but no dice … ”</p><p>“Wall Street Crash, anyone?” muttered Richard.</p><p>Jimmy spoke over him, “I thought to meself, I wonder whether Lady A might ‘elp me out again? So I wrote to her, ‘n’ a couple o’ days later durin’ breakfast at me lodgin’s got a phone call from ‘er butler sayin’ I ’ad an interview that afternoon for a job as first footman in a household in Eaton Square, Belgravia. “Not many houses are hiring these days, James,” he said rather portentously, “so be grateful. It’s a fine house, the Melchetts are a fine family.”</p><p>“<span class="u">What</span> a small world!” muttered Richard.</p><p>“Well, I charmed Simmons, the Melchetts’ butler, ‘n’ got the job. It really did seem "fine", nice staff, fourteen of ‘em, very well-run ‘ouse, obviously loads o’ dosh.”</p><p>“Lord Melchett owns the freeholds of about half of Chancery Lane and rather a lot of Suffolk,” said Richard.</p><p>“That would explain the country pile outside Ipswich,” said Jimmy. “Though the family were real “townies”, ‘er Ladyship especially, Christmas was “country”, so we all decamped to Yelverton Court for the duration. Now, the Melchetts have two grown up children … “</p><p>“The Honourable James and the Honourable Clarissa … “ said Richard.</p><p>“Yeah, ‘ow d’yer know tha’?”</p><p>“Never mind, I’ll tell you later. Pray continue, though I fear I know what’s coming.”</p><p>Jimmy raised an eyebrow, “Well, His Lordship also has a younger brother … “</p><p>“Lord Augustus Melchett,” said Richard, through gritted teeth.</p><p>“ … who lives in the dower house on the estate with his very ancient mother.”</p><p>“Lady Augusta. God, she must be eighty-five if she’s a day,” breathed Richard.</p><p>“Now, come on, Richard,” said Thomas, patting him on the knee, “How <span class="u">do</span> you know so much about these people?”</p><p>“I worked for them, briefly, before I went to Buck House.” For a moment, his face set like rock, then he turned back to Jimmy, “Sorry, please go on.”</p><p>“There was a big dinner on our second night at Yelverton, local nobs, Lord Augustus, the Dowager wheeled in in her wicker chair, must have been two dozen of ‘em at least. All the staff were completely whallopped already – we’d bin up half the night polishing silver and crystal, moving furniture, and so on, and on, <span class="u">and</span> I’d been assigned to valet for His Lordship’s brother, whose man was, he said, “unwell”. He’d behaved perfectly before dinner, no small talk, no, er, trouble. During the meal we were all on our best behaviour, straight-backed, blending into the oak panelling, you know the drill.”</p><p>Thomas shifted in his seat, but said nothing.</p><p>“As the gentlemen were going through for their brandy and cigars, Lord Augustus came up to me ‘n’ said, “I shall ring for you at around eleven-thirty, James.” “Yes, m’lord.” He looked me up ‘n’ down, “H’m, good,” was all he said, and then he went.” Jimmy paused and bit his lip. “It was not, however, all that he was thinking. As we were clearing the table, I asked Mr Simmons about him. “Lord Augustus? Very upright, a real gentleman, as was his father before him: the resemblance is striking – why do you ask?” “No reason, Mr Simmons, jus’ wondering?” “Well, don’t, James, just get on and take that tray of glasses down to the kitchen.”</p><p>“Something nagged at my mind as I sat downstairs waiting fer that ruddy bell to ring. He made me nervous, and I thought I knew why … “</p><p>“And when you went to undress him for bed he assaulted you, am I right?” asked Richard.</p><p>“Yeah, pushed me up against the wall, shoved ‘is tongue in me mouth, ‘n’ tried to get ‘is ‘and down me trousers.”</p><p>“Oh, shit …”, said Thomas.</p><p>“He tried that on with me once,” said Richard. “I was fifteen, a hall-boy at Yelverton, ‘n’ he was home for the “vacation” from Oxford. He’d brought a “friend” with him, ‘n’ they both had a go. It was not pleasant.”</p><p>Jimmy looked a bit surprised, “but you <span class="u">are</span> … “</p><p>“What, queer? Yeah, I know, but what’s that gotta do with it?” asked Richard tetchily. "I was only a kid!"</p><p>“Oh … “ answered Jimmy, “yeah, er, sorry … “</p><p>“You don’t just jump on ev’ry girl you fancy, do yer?” said Thomas. “It’s no different … “</p><p>“Er, no, ‘course not, I … “</p><p>“It’s OK, Jimmy,” added Richard a little wearily, “not many people <span class="u">do</span> ‘get it’! Men like Thomas and me fancy men, we just don’t go round attacking them willy-nilly. You <span class="u">are</span> very “fanciable”, James Kent, as you know perfectly well!”</p><p>Jimmy blushed violently.</p><p>“But Thomas and I won’t be tryin’ to tear your pyjamas off at three in the morning.” He beamed at Thomas.</p><p>“We’ll have better things to do,” said Thomas, kissing Richard on the cheek.</p><p>“Oh,” said Jimmy, still blushing. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I knew I couldn’t say anythin’, ‘cos, well, who’d believe a footman’s word against a lord’s?” He looked at Thomas, who had thunder in his eyes, “Yeah, I know, but … “</p><p>“M-hm … and?”</p><p>“I barely slept a wink that night, looked like shite at the servants’ breakfast, and dreaded that bell ringin’ again. Of course it did, eventually, ‘n’ I ‘ad to go and run a bath for that man, put ‘is clothes out, ‘elp ‘im dress, all the time wond’rin’ whether ‘e’d ‘ave another try … “</p><p>“Did he?” asked Thomas, licking his lips.</p><p>“No, ‘e just leered at me non-stop, ‘n’, as ‘e was leaving the room, ‘e put ‘is ‘and to my face, ‘n’ then smacked me on the cheek, just hard enough to sting. “I could make it much worse for you, James … or so much better … ” Then he laughed, said, “you might even learn to like it,” and swanned off.</p><p>“Oh, Jesus,” said Richard.</p><p>“’Ang on, that’s by no means the end of this.”</p><p>“Bloody ‘ell,” exclaimed Thomas, “ ‘ave some more brandy.”</p><p>“I won’t say no.”</p><p>Jimmy took a sip, then, “On Christmas Eve the two “honourable” children turned up. Clarissa’s a bluestocking, studying art history in Florence, perfectly nice, no oil-painting, but at least she talked to the staff as if we were human beings. Young Lord James was another matter, spoiled brat, doted on by “mamma”, arrogant, pleased with ‘imself … “</p><p>“And ev’ry bit as queer as his “dear uncle Gussy”!” exclaimed Richard.</p><p>“How on Earth did you know that?”</p><p>“Working at Buck house has many advantages, not least being the centre of the entire country’s servant-class rumour mill! I had heard things about <span class="u">his</span> time at Oxford … “</p><p>“Well ‘e’s a big boy now, twenty-eight I think, ‘ad been gambling his father’s money away in Monte Carlo, and was off to Berlin in the New Year.”</p><p>“To sample the flesh-pots, I daresay,” said Richard, with a sigh.</p><p>“ For them as don’t know, Jimmy, Berlin’s about the queerest place in Europe,” added Thomas.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Linda the sax told me all about it: ladies’ bars, drag bars, yeah, yeah … “</p><p>“Ah, Jimmy Kent, man of the world,” muttered Thomas.</p><p>“Hmf! In any case, “Uncle Gussie” told his beloved nephew what ‘e’d tried on, and his little lordship though ‘e’d ‘ave a bash … All over Christmas ‘e was makin’ insinuations, complimenting “the smartness of the staff”, wantin’ me to valet for <span class="u">him</span>, askin’ me to do errands for ‘im, practically gropin’ me while I was servin’ tea. It was, well, it wasn’t nice, ‘n’ then we got to New Year’s Eve. Lady A ‘d told Lady Melchett that I play’d the piano, so she asked me to do so for their New Year party. “We’ll pay you some extra, James,” she said. “Thank you, m’lady,” said I.</p><p>“I started playin’ at nine, and did three ‘ours straight off. At least I got a few drinks out of it, ‘n’ plenty of canapés. Creepy Lord James ‘d ‘ung about the piano quite a lot, but I was in full view of everyone, so ‘e couldn’t really get up to much. At midnight, I played “Auld Lang Syne”, ‘n’ they all sang, about a hundred toffs, most of ‘em plastered. It was a terrible racket. They pretty much all staggered off ‘ome after that, but then Lord Gus slimed up to the piano,</p><p>“Hello, James,” he whispered, holding out a full glass of champagne, “Have a drink, dear boy!”</p><p>“I’m not your “dear boy”,” I answered savagely.</p><p>“Maybe not, and more fool you, but have a bloody drink anyway.”</p><p>He raised his own glass, “To the prettiest footman in England!” he yelped: he was <span class="u">very</span> drunk.”</p><p>“I glared at him, but I drank the champagne.”</p><p>Jimmy paused: “That was the biggest mistake of my life. There was something in it. I don’t remember a thing about what ‘appen’d next, but … “</p><p>“ … when you woke up the next morning you weren’t in your own bed,” said Thomas.</p><p>“No, I was in … Lord James’ bed, stark naked. ‘E was snorin’ next ter me, ‘n’ Gussie was fast asleep in an armchair by the fireplace. I ached all over, ‘n’ there was … blood .. on the sheets, ‘n’ I, er, I hurt … I hurt … “ He put his right fist in his mouth, and sobbed silently.</p><p>Thomas looked at Richard. Nobody said a word.</p><p>Jimmy blew his nose again, “That was nearly four months ago,” he said, “’n’ I’m still havin’ nightmares about it.”</p><p>“Jimmy, what can I say?” murmured Thomas. “It’s just awful, but you know … “</p><p>“Yes, I know it’s not always like that, o’ course I do!” His face was almost angry, his eyes flicking between Thomas and Richard, “Look at you two, you love each other, who gives a shit whether it’s a man with a woman or with a man, or two women, you love each other, it’s real, I can see that, I can feel it, but … I’ve never known that, all I’ve had is “pretty boy” sex: whores in Flanders, gropes with kitchen-maids, a few … fucks with an aging “Ladyship”, and then these ... excuse me, but,  bloody lavender toffs takin' advantage." He hit himself on the chest really hard, "There's a person in 'ere, you know!" He was almost weeping again, and waved wildly at Thomas and Richard, "Nobody’s ever just held me … “</p><p>Thomas stood up and held out his arms, “Come ‘ere, yer daft 'ap'orth.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A few more tears</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>... the end of Jimmy's story</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Thomas held Jimmy silently for a long time. The younger man sobbed a bit, mumbled “sorry” into Thomas’s chest, then sobbed a bit more.</p><p>“S-sorry,” said Jimmy again, pulling himself upright, “I’m spoilin’ a lovely ev’nin … “</p><p>“No you’re not, you daft sod,” muttered Thomas.</p><p>Richard also stood up, and put his arms round them both. They all just stood there for a long moment, then sat down again, saying nothing.</p><p>Jimmy wiped his nose on Richard’s handkerchief. “I crawled, literally, out of that bed. Me clothes were scattered all over the place, but some’ow I managed to put them on … ev’rythin’ ‘urt so much! It was already breakfast-time, so all the servants were downstairs eatin’. No-one saw me creepin’ up the service stairs. I stripped again, ‘n’ ran a bath. I felt so dirty, I’ ad to scrub it all off if I could … I made me skin raw, ‘n’ washed me … down there, oh, a dozen times. I felt awful, went ‘n’ laid down on me bed in just me dressing-gown. I must’ve fallen asleep, ‘cos suddenly there was a knock at the door, ‘n’ I heard Mr Simmons’ voice, “James, you missed breakfast. Is something wrong? Are you ill?”</p><p>“Yes, Mr Simmons, I, er, I ‘ad a bad night, sick ‘n’ that.”</p><p>“Do you have a fever?”</p><p>“I don’t think so, sir, I just feel a bit whoozy.” I did, too, it was what that bastard had put in me drink.</p><p>“You rest then, it’s a quiet day today. I’ll send one of the hall-boys up with some lunch later.”</p><p>“Thank you, Mr Simmons.”</p><p>He was a good man, Simmons, kind. I did manage to eat some lunch, ‘n’ made it down to the servants’ hall after. I wondered whether I could tell Mr Simmons what’d ‘appen’d, so about three o’clock I knocked on his office door. ‘E was sitting at his desk, ‘n’ I sat down opposite ‘im. I took a deep breath, ‘n’ it all came tumbling out. ‘E was shocked, I could tell - ‘e went very quiet, ‘n’ then asked,</p><p>“James, could it possibly be said that you gave them any encouragement?”</p><p>“No, Mr Simmons, I did not, not in the slightest.”</p><p>“Because these are very serious allegations, you know, a, er, a criminal matter.”</p><p>“Yes, sir, I realise that, but I gave them none. I am not “that way”, sir.”</p><p>“I only ask because there is a lot of "it" about in our line of work, you know, a <span class="u">lot</span>.” He paused a moment, “I must think what should be done. I would wish to avoid scandal falling upon this house, but I shall speak to His Lordship this very day.”</p><p>“Oh, Mr Simmons … !”</p><p>“Don’t worry, James, I will not allow this to reflect badly on you. You are a servant of this house, not a slave. I think it best if you do not serve at tea or dinner today. Would you mind returning to your room, please? I will come and see you later.”</p><p>I did, and at about six o’clock Mr Simmons knocked on my door again.</p><p>“I spoke to His Lordship after tea. He was, I am glad to say, as horrified as I was. He has “known” about his brother for many years, but thought the man had some self-control. He had no idea about his son – it was a great shock to him. He sent for Her Ladyship and taxed her with the story – and in front of me! She broke down, and there was an angry scene. The upshot was that His Lordship has forbidden his brother to set foot in this house ever again.”</p><p>“What about his son and heir?” I asked bitterly.</p><p>“Would you bring scandal upon this house, drag the family through the courts?”</p><p>“They deserve it, those two, but, no, not His Lordship nor Her Ladyship, nor anyone else here – this is a good house to work in, or at least it has been.”</p><p>“I have to tell you that a court case wouldn’t do you much good either. People always think there’s no smoke without fire, that’s just how it is. Anyway, there had been plans for Lord James to go to Germany in the near future. This will now happen at once, and His Lordship has told his son that he is not just going on another trip, this is for good. He will be given a reasonable allowance, but has been told that, should he dare to return to England, he will find himself sectioned to a psychiatric hospital.”</p><p>“He’s not mad, Mr Simmons, just bad.”</p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p>In the end we decided I should leave as soon as possible. Simmons called me into his office the next morning, and gave me an envelope containing a reference and two hundred pounds in used notes. I tried to refuse it.</p><p>“This is not hush money, James. At least try not to think of it as such.” He was clearly embarrassed. “Her Ladyship asked to speak to me late yesterday evening. She is very distressed about this whole business … “</p><p>“I should bloody well hope so,” I blurted out.</p><p>“Language, James … though I understand your anger only too well. She knows she cannot make proper amends, but hopes you will accept this as a token … and to help tide you over till you find other employment. She realises times are hard. This is her own money.”</p><p>“Hmm, please tell Her Ladyship … “ I picked up the envelope from his desk. “Please tell her that I will never say anything to tarnish the name of Melchett. Her son has done that already, and one day truth will out.”</p><p>I went back to me room, hung up me livery, packed me case, and left. I decided then and there that I would never work in service again, and so that is why I was on that train … ‘n’ ‘ere we are.”</p><p>Jimmy sighed, and took a big gulp of brandy.</p><p>Thomas rubbed a hand across his face, “Bloody ‘ell, Jimmy, what a story!”</p><p>“Yeah, it were no fun, I can tell yer.”</p><p>He went very quiet, then shook his head, and downed the rest of his drink in one.</p><p>“Jimmy, I’m really sorry,” said Richard, “Had I known I wouldn’t’ve made that bad joke about ripping your pyjamas off.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, ‘snot a problem.” Jimmy sighed again, “I think I need to go to bed.”</p><p>“Your room’s at the top of the stairs on the left, ‘n’ the bathroom’s next door,” said Thomas. “I hope you’ll find everything you need.”</p><p>“I put a hot water bottle in your bed about an hour ago,” added Richard. “Mind you don’t burn your toes.”</p><p>“Thank you … and thank you both fer a lovely meal. Sorry about all the drama. It’s no pleasure to talk about it, I can tell you, but I feel better for doin’ so, if you know what I mean.”</p><p>“I think I do, Jimmy,” said Thomas, who bent down and kissed him on the cheek.</p><p>Jimmy gave Richard an enormous hug. “Thank you for doin’ all tha’ cookin’, it was great!”</p><p>“My pleasure!”</p><p>Jimmy tottered off. Thomas and Richard crept about tidying up, not saying much. Later, when they were getting undressed, Thomas said, “You never told me you’d worked for those Melchetts.”</p><p>“It’s a time I prefer to forget, to be honest. Lord Gussie has always been a shit.”</p><p>They lay in bed, just holding each other quietly. “Poor Jimmy,” murmured Thomas. “Yeah, bloody toffs giving us queers a bad name.”</p><p>They drifted off. They woke to a tap on the door. It was ten to six.</p><p>“Can I come in?” said Jimmy.</p><p>“Yeah, ‘course,” mumbled Thomas, only half awake. Richard didn’t stir.</p><p>“I made tea.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. An end and a beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jimmy leaves, Richard stays.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Thomas was soon up and about, and then off to the Abbey. Richard drank his tea, but then went back to sleep. Jimmy did some housework.</p><p>It was Friday, and Friday was fish day. Mrs Patmore did a whole baked salmon for “upstairs” and poached lots of smoked haddock for “downstairs” – “In honour of our distinguished visitors, or rather, one distinguished,” she smiled at Richard, “and one eternal rapscallion,” she waved her wooden spoon ominously at Jimmy, to general laughter, ”I have poached it in cider.” There was a mountain of mashed potato as well.</p><p>On Saturday Jimmy insisted he would cook at the cottage, and disappeared into the village with a shopping basket. In a cupboard in the kitchen he discovered an ancient mincing-machine and commandeered the remains of the roast lamb. The result of his endeavours were some enormous rissoles, “Me mam taught me ‘ow ter make these: lots of lemon peel ‘n’ garlic ‘n’ some breadcrumbs soaked in a bit o’ milk,” he said proudly, "‘n’ there’s taters ‘n’ a salad, ‘n’ cheese, ‘n’ I found some nice eatin’ apples at the grocers. Will that do for you gents?”</p><p>“Very kind of you, Jimmy, thank you,” beamed Thomas.</p><p>They talked a lot again, till past midnight. Thomas and Richard did make love that night, gently, passionately … and rather loudly.</p><p>At about six there was another tap on their bedroom door.</p><p>“Yes, Jimmy.” He came in and just stood there in the semi-darkness.</p><p>“You all right?” asked Thomas.</p><p>“Well, yeah … can I get in?”</p><p>“Wha’ … ?”</p><p>“Yeah, just hold me, Thomas.”</p><p>“Uh, OK. Richard, love, hey, could you bunt over a bit? We have a visitor.”</p><p>“Hm? Wha … who … ? Oh, er, yeah … “ came a sleepy mumble.</p><p>An hour later Richard made the tea. Thomas and Jimmy were fast asleep.</p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p>Thus did Thomas miss breakfast at the Abbey for the first time in many moons. Henceforward he made a habit of it. <em>One morning a week without me will hardly bring the place down round their ears!</em></p><p>He sauntered into the servants’ hall at about half-past ten. There was the usual bustle of activity. He stuck his head into the kitchen, “Any chance of a cup of tea?” The new kitchen-maid (the one with teeth, name of Gladys) looked up from the pastry she was rolling, and said to Daisy, who was clanking about in the sink, “Does Mr Barrow <span class="u">deserve</span> tea, do you think?” Thomas wagged a finger at her, and opened his mouth ready for a stinging retort, when Mrs Patmore, again tussling with her new mixer, muttered viciously, “Oh, go on with you girl. Double strength, mind, he’s no doubt weary after his, ahem, exertions.” There was a pause, during which four pairs of eyebrows shot skywards – Thomas retreated to his office.</p><p>Luncheon service over, he shot back to the cottage. Jimmy was all packed and ready to go.</p><p>“When’s your train?”</p><p>“Ten past three.”</p><p>“Go on, then, off with you. It’s twelve minutes’ walk from ‘ere, exactly.”</p><p>They were all three standing in the narrow hallway.</p><p>“It was more than a pleasure to meet you, Jimmy,” said Richard.</p><p>“Likewise,” answered Jimmy, hugging him again.</p><p>“Come ‘n’ see us again soon,” said Thomas.</p><p>“Yeah, no, er, no excuse now … not that I need one,” came the answer.</p><p>Jimmy reached up to Thomas, put a hand behind his head, and kissed him on the lips. “Thanks fer ev’rythin’.”</p><p>He turned to Richard, “Look after ‘im, please, fer all our sakes.”</p><p>“I intend to.”</p><p>Jimmy walked to the door, opened it, gave a last look round to them both, and then he was gone.</p><p>
  <strong>*</strong>
</p><p>A little later, Richard and Thomas were standing outside the library door. As three-thirty struck, Thomas knocked. “I have no idea what this is about,” he murmured. Richard squeezed his hand.</p><p>“Come.”</p><p>Lady Mary was again sitting by the fire.</p><p>“Ah, gentlemen, thank you for coming to see me. Please, both of you, sit.”</p><p>They did – it still felt a bit odd.</p><p>With a very knowing glance, Lady Mary asked, “Have you had a <span class="u">good</span> weekend?”</p><p>“Yes, er, thank you,” mumbled Thomas, looking abashed. Richard just beamed, “Thank you, m’lady.”</p><p>“Excellent! Now, I shall cut to the chase: Mr Ellis, were you good at sums at school?”</p><p>“Well, yes, actually, my teacher at the grammar school in York always said I had a good head for figures, and I wasn’t bad at algebra either. It’s a bit rusty, though.”</p><p>“Never mind the rust, as long as you can add up and multiply … “</p><p>“That I can, m’lady.”</p><p>“Thank God for that! You see, I have a proposal for you. Since Mr Branson left us I have had a “hired help” doing the books, an accountant from Twistleton’s in Ripon, nice young chap , but … we’re “just another case” to him, he’s not really interested in Downton, what it means to us all here. Do you follow me?”</p><p>“I think so, ma’am,” said Richard. Thomas looked puzzled.</p><p>“Don’t frown, Mr Barrow, it’s very ageing!” said Mary with a little giggle.</p><p>“Now, where was I? Oh yes, young Mr Perkins. I’ve decided he just won’t do, and … well, how does "Richard Ellis, Steward of Downton Abbey" sound to you?”</p><p>Thomas’s jaw dropped, and he looked at Richard as if he’d grown another head.</p><p>Richard thought for a moment, blew out his lips, and looked at the floor. Then he turned his gaze on Lady Mary, smiled his beamiest smile, and said, “It would be an honour, m’lady, I’m very flattered, thank you!”</p><p>Mary clapped her hands together, “Oh, thank God for that! You’d really leave the King’s employ and come and work for us?”</p><p>Richard glanced at Thomas, who was now sitting back on the sofa with a hand over his mouth, his eyes sparkling, and said quietly, “Of course I would, m’lady.”</p><p>She looked at them both, suddenly all serious, “It will give you gentlemen a bit of extra “cover”, won’t it?”</p><p>“Oh, you mean two Downton employees sharing a cottage on the estate? No cause for scandal, and so forth,” said Richard.</p><p>“Quite so,” came the answer. “None of us here gives a fig, but we all know what the village is for gossip.” She paused. “We have a standard contract for employees, I just need to fill in the details. My father is still legally the title-holder of the estate, of course, so he will need to sign it. Could you come back here at say, six, and we’ll do all the formalities then?”</p><p>“Certainly, m’lady.”</p><p>“Marvellous! Oh, and bring Mr Barrow with you.”</p><p>He did, documents were signed and sealed, hands shaken … and champagne was quaffed. At her own insistence, the Dowager Countess was present. As Thomas and Richard were about to leave, she turned to them,</p><p>“Barrow, I remember very well your first evening here all those years ago.”</p><p>“Yes, m’lady.”</p><p>“I looked at you, and remarked that you’d "have no trouble".”</p><p>Thomas looked abashed again, “Yes, m’lady,” he murmured.</p><p>“Most unusually for me, I was mistaken, very mistaken.”</p><p>She glanced at Richard, “Now, Ellis, we are all relying on you to make sure Barrow has no <span class="u">more</span> trouble. Is that clear?”</p><p>“As crystal, m’lady.”</p>
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